Fathoming the Mind of a Werewolf

Chapter Five: Willows and Werewolves

The niggling feeling that James had felt on the night of the Quidditch match refused to go away. He was sure that he was missing something very obvious. It was an infuriating feeling - as though there were something he wanted very much that lay just out of his reach. Remus came back to school the next day, as usual looking severely scratched, as usual unwilling to talk about his mother, and James was infuriated. He was sure now that Remus's disappearances were a mystery, and that he held the key to it, if only he could just think.

"James, are you all right?"

James jumped at the sound of Remus's voice. "Yes, I'm fine, of course I'm all right. Why shouldn't I be?" He looked up to see the puzzled faces of his dorm mates staring at him.

"A bit preoccupied, are you?" Sirius asked, smirking.

James looked down at his back to front robes. "I thought I could start a trend," he said.

"And the sock?" asked Frank.

James saw that the thing that he had been trying to jam onto his head was indeed a sock.

"Maybe he's trying to get his hair to lie flat," said Sirius.

Everybody forgot James's strange dressing in the ensuing battle, but James felt that he had to work out the Remus mystery before he went completely barmy.

*~*

May brought warmth and sun to the castle, but the approaching exams meant that few of the older students were disposed to enjoy the weather. The fifth and seventh years became more and more unreasonable. James was quite prepared to stay out of the library; he never went there, anyway, but he resented being told to be quiet whenever he so much as breathed in the Gryffindor common room. He, Sirius, Remus and Peter took to lounging outside during the weekends and mild evenings. Remus tried to encourage them to take books with them, but James, Sirius, and Peter never felt like doing work. Instead, Sirius devised a game, which became popular with many of the younger students. Ever since flying into it on his broom, Sirius had been fascinated by the Whomping Willow. Hagrid had told him that it was a new addition to the Hogwarts grounds and had only been planted there the previous summer.

On a Sunday morning in mid May, the four of them were lying under a tree near the Whomping Willow. Remus was reading his Potions book, Peter and James were playing 'slapsies', or rather, James was hitting Peter and dodging Peter's attempts to hit him. Sirius was lying flat on his back, watching a bird trying to perch on the Whomping Willow. The tree remained still as the little bird flew closer and closer, until it suddenly swung out one of its branches in a vicious swipe, and the bird spiralled out of the air.

"D'you suppose that thing just attacks anything that comes near it?" Sirius asked.

"Looks like it," said James, withdrawing his hands just before Peter could slap them.

"I bet I could get close enough to touch it," Sirius said.

"No you couldn't," James said, catching Peter's hands with a stinging slap.

"Wouldn't it be dangerous?" asked Peter, who was rubbing the back of his left hand.

Remus lowered his book. "Yes, it would. That tree's lethal."

Sirius sat up. "Don't be pathetic. I'm hardly going to be beaten up by a tree."

James sniggered. "Not again, anyway."

Sirius got to his feet. "I didn't know it was going to hit me then. Now that I know, I won't let it get me."

"Bet you can't touch the trunk," James challenged.

"Bet I can!"

"Bet you can't."

"Bet I can!"

"Okay, go on then."

Peter, whose eyes had flicked from James to Sirius as though he were watching a tennis match, cheered loudly. Sirius approached the tree with a confident swagger.

A minute later, he retreated with a bloody lip.

"Nah, I was just testing it out. I'll get it next time," he said in a slightly muffled voice. "Fine, you do it, then," he said at James's derisive look.

James got up and looked thoughtfully at the tree.

"You're mad," Remus said. "Just so you know,"

James did better than Sirius, managing to dodge the flailing branches for several minutes before a thick branch got him in the stomach. He hadn't got near the trunk, though.

"Hey, Potter! What are you doing?"

Gideon Prewett, a fourth year Gryffindor, who was on the Quidditch team, had been sitting with a group of friends nearby. He strolled over.

"This tree hits everything that comes near it. I was trying to get past the branches," said James, panting.

Gideon looked at the Whomping Willow, which was flexing its branches in a menacing fashion.

"Cool," he said.

By lunchtime, quite a crowd had gathered around the Whomping Willow, watching those brave, or stupid, enough to face its branches. So far, a third year boy that James thought was called Lovegood was the best, having managed to reach within inches of the trunk before being sent flying. Sirius had had another go and had held the tree at bay for almost five minutes. Many boys wanted to prove their bravery, skill, and dexterity, and trying to touch the trunk of the Whomping Willow became a consuming sport over the next few weeks. Sirius and James loved the thrill, the danger, and the applause of the other boys. Peter enjoyed watching and cheering, while Remus sat by, trying to revise. Every so often, he looked as though he were about to say something, but always remained silent.

Sirius's game was an effective way of avoiding revision, and James, Sirius, and Peter did very little before their exams. On the morning of their first exam, Peter looked rather green, while Remus quietly stared at his plate at breakfast, without eating a bite. James and Sirius appeared completely oblivious, joking and taking advantage of the other Gryffindors' lack of appetite by eating even more. Frank was also eating heartily, stopping now and then to try to get Lily Evans to finish her toast. Next to them, Alice Walker was chewing her lip rather than her breakfast.

As he walked to the Charms classroom, James felt the merest hint of nerves. He hoped he did well. He didn't want to let his parents down; he wanted them to be proud of him. If he didn't get good marks, and he hadn't revised, he knew they'd be disappointed. He didn't see how he couldn't do well, though. He and Sirius had never done much work, and yet they'd always been among the best in each class.

"What did you think of that?" Sirius said as they emerged from the written exam.

"Doddle," said James.

Remus looked satisfied. "That wasn't too bad."

Peter was shaking. "Can't we use the parchment for the next one?" he begged.

The parchment was Remus's Christmas present, and while the four of them had used it a good deal in lessons, James, Sirius, and Remus refused to cheat in exams.

"You know we can't, because of the quills," James said, referring to the anti-cheating quills with which they'd been supplied.

Peter groaned. "I hope the practical exam's better."

Professor Flitwick always set the same exam, Gideon Prewett had told James. You had to get a pineapple to tap-dance across a table. He and Sirius had tried to teach Peter how to do it, with limited success.

James thought his pineapple danced quite well, and he had even managed to get it to bow at the end.

Transfiguration went equally well, and James was pleased that he hadn't bothered with revision. He turned his hedgehog into a pincushion with ease. Knowing that marks would be awarded according to how nice the pincushion was, he made a handsome tartan one and gave it a ring of lace at the top and bottom, like the one their house-elves used at home. Professor McGonagall had even smiled at him. Not everyone found it so easy. Alice had to be comforted by Lily when her pincushion scuttled away as Professor McGonagall tried to stick a pin in it. Peter's pincushion looked as though scores of pins had already been stuck in it; he hadn't managed to remove the quills.

Sirius was the best at Potions, but James hadn't found the sleeping potion too difficult. He spent most of his time glowering at Snape, who finished his Potion first and stood by his cauldron looking bored. Remus looked rather strained at the end of that exam, whereas Peter seemed about to sob into his cauldron. History of Magic, in which James mainly slept, Herbology, in which Frank tripped over a bag of compost and got covered in it, and Defence Against the Dark Arts, taught by the strict Professor Asch, all whizzed past without a problem. Astronomy was the last exam; it took place at midnight at the top of the Astronomy tower. After finding Sirius (the star) and labelling parts of his star chart, James looked up at the moon, which shone mottled silver in the sky. It was large, almost full. But not quite. James could see the slightly irregular side, where a sliver was still lost to the dark sky. Next to him, Remus was scratching in the names and positions of the stars. Then James watched as Remus looked to the moon, as he had done. The moonlight washed over Remus's upturned face and made it look paler than usual. There was an odd expression in his eyes.

James watched and began to understand.

Remus went home a few days later, and James, who had been closely observing his friend, felt his understanding turn into a dreadful conviction as he paid no attention to his morning lessons. Straight after lunch, James told Sirius and Peter that he needed to talk to them.

"But James, can't it wait?" Sirius whined. "It's my go with the Whomping Willow next, and I'm sure I'll do it this time."

"It's about Remus," said James in a low voice. Sirius looked towards the sunny grounds, then back to James and sighed loudly.

"All right, but this better be good," he said, following James, with Peter at his heels.

They went to their dormitory, and James locked the door, even though Frank had last been seen heading for the grounds.

"Why all the secrecy?" Sirius asked.

James frowned. "I'm not sure. But something isn't right with Remus's trips home."

"Well I said that in our first term!" said Sirius. "And if I remember correctly, you told me to drop it."

"I know, I know," said James. "But there's more to this, I'm positive."

"Why?" asked Peter, sitting down on his bed and looking at the others.

"Well," James said. "Do we think that Remus really goes home?"

"No," said Sirius, at once. "At least, not all the time. I saw him in the hospital wing, I know I did."

"And I'll tell you something else I've noticed," James said. "When do you reckon Remus goes home exactly?"

"Every month," Peter said promptly.

"No, that's not right," said Sirius, thinking hard. "He went today, which is Monday, but he was away for the Quidditch final, which was a Saturday. Sometimes he's away in the middle of the week, and sometimes he's away for the weekend. So he doesn't go the same time every month."

"Exactly. He goes every twenty nine days," said James. "I worked it out."

Sirius began to frown.

"But why is that important?" Peter asked.

"So he goes -" Sirius said.

"Whenever there's a full moon," James told them.

Sirius dived ("Dove" hmmm, I don't know, I think I prefer 'dived'. I read 'dove' like the bird.unless I think about it) for his trunk. "Right," he said, emerging with a copy of 'Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them'. James's heart sank as he watched Sirius flick to the back of the book. With Peter hovering over their shoulders, they pored over the page.

Werewolf:

M.O.M. Classification XXXXX

The werewolf is found worldwide, though it is believed to have originated in northern Europe. Humans turn into werewolves only when bitten. There is no known cure. Once a month, at the full moon, the otherwise same and normal wizard or Muggle afflicted transforms into a murderous beast. Almost uniquely amongst fantastic creatures, the werewolf actively seeks humans in preference to any other kind of prey.

They read the passage in silence. James finished and looked up, to see Sirius staring at him. He knew that he was seeing his own expression on Sirius's wide-eyed face.

"What," said Peter. "Do you think that Remus's mum is a werewolf?"

James thought quickly, hoping that by some miracle Peter had leapt to the right conclusion. But he couldn't make it make sense, for in that case, Remus would stay away at those times. Anyone who came in contact with a werewolf was in danger of being bitten and becoming a werewolf themselves, and... No. His first guess had been right. Cold realisation drenched him, and he gasped and shuddered. He shook his head, trying to clear away the idea. It couldn't be right; it couldn't make sense. It did. The certainty of it was like lead in his stomach.

"I don't suppose he just likes watching mooncalves or something," Sirius said.

"No," James said. "It's Remus. Remus is a werewolf."

"He can't be," said Peter.

"Why not?" Sirius asked.

"He just can't." Peter sounded rather panicked. "He's Remus, not a werewolf!"

"So what do we do?" asked Sirius, ignoring Peter. "Do we tell him?"

"I think so," James said. "Maybe we should do some research."

"You're out of your minds," Peter said. "Remus isn't a werewolf. They don't allow werewolves at Hogwarts."

But it became clear that they did. Sirius and James spent hours in the library that evening, reading every chapter on werewolves they could find with a concentration that they had never devoted to their lessons. They stayed until Peter fell asleep over his book, and until Madam Beaupre indicated that the library was closing. With every detail, they became more and more certain that they were right. The tiredness, the scratches, the disappearances every full moon - it all fitted.

Even Peter was finally convinced.

"Sh-should we tell Dumbledore?" He asked the other two as they crept back.

"He must know," said James.

"Yeah, they've made arrangements for him, haven't they?" said Sirius.

"But...a werewolf at Hogwarts...it's not safe," Peter stammered. "It said in the book that they like to attack humans."

"It must be safe," James said. "Dumbledore wouldn't put everyone in danger."

"Anyway, he's gone when it's the full moon."

"Remus isn't going to attack you, Peter," said Sirius

Peter looked at his two friends, sighed, shrugged, and hurried after them.

That evening, the three of them leaned out of the dormitory window and stared at the full moon. It was a perfect circle hanging in the sky.

"What are you doing?" asked Frank when he walked in from the bathroom, his hair sticking on end. "Is something happening?"

"Nope, we're just admiring the moon," Sirius said.

"It's beautiful," James said.

Frank shook his head and decided not to comment as he climbed into bed.

For a long time, James lay awake and, although he'd drawn the hangings round his bed, he could still see the hovering, silent moon when he closed his eyes. As he drifted off to sleep, he fancied he could hear a wolf's howl.

James both dreaded and looked forward to seeing Remus. He didn't want to have to face Remus and expose his secret, but he felt that it must have been extremely uncomfortable for Remus to have to hide from his friends. James hoped that by telling Remus that they knew, he, Sirius and Peter could help him a bit.

'At any rate, we can help him catch up,' he thought, making sure that his Transfiguration notes were legible so that Remus could copy them. James thought it very mean of McGonagall to carry on teaching them lessons after exams in her same, strict way. At lunchtime, however, something happened to wipe all thoughts of Remus from his mind.

Several people had by now succeeded in touching the trunk of the Whomping Willow. One of them was Mickey Lovegood, who became a hero for the first time in his life when his fingers were the first to brush the bark of the Whomping Willow's trunk. The fact that he was then flung backwards twenty feet was overlooked in the general euphoria. Another such boy was Davy Gudgeon. Davy was a wiry little Hufflepuff second-year. He was so pleased with himself at attaining the goal that he kept on with the game, trying to touch a second and then a third time. Now that the exams had finished, more and more students were eager to pit themselves against the Willow, or to watch those who were. That lunchtime, there was a mass of students from all years and houses surrounding the tree.

"Gudgeon! Gudgeon! Gudgeon!" the crowd chanted.

"And Davy Gudgeon faces the tree, looking to conquer it an unprecedented fourth time," said Sirius, who had taken it upon himself to act as a commentator. "He dodges neatly to the right, and then to the left. Drops to the ground to avoid a low swinging branch, nice roll to get out the way there. There must have been something in the spaghetti today, because Gudgeon is on top form!"

This heralded a laugh from the spectators, and even Davy glanced at Sirius, taking his attention from the tree for a split second.

It was enough.

"Wumph!" A branch smacked Davy across the face. There was a grasp from the crowd as Davy sank to the ground as if in slow motion.

"Quick! Someone get him out," someone screamed.

James darted forward, along with Sirius and Mickey Lovegood. The tree swung its branches at all three assailants, until Mickey finally managed to grab Davy's foot, and James and Sirius helped to pull him out. The panicked crowd became more so at the sight of Davy's face. His nose looked crumpled in, and there was so much blood; it ran down his forehead, his cheek, his lips. One eyelid was torn, and none of them wanted to look at the blood-tinged eye underneath.

"Get him to the hospital wing!"

A couple of seventh-years levitated the limp body and started towards the castle. The crowd followed behind, making a slow and scared procession up to the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey drew her breath in sharply between her teeth at the sight of Davy's battered face. The mass of students, all of whom had feared the matron's wrath at their dangerous pursuit, were all the more frightened by her grim silence. She didn't even have to order them to leave; guiltily and silently, the students retreated, leaving Davy's friends hovering nervously at the door. James, Sirius, and Peter were among the last to leave, but not until they had all glanced at the furthest bed, whose hangings were drawn, and looked significantly at each other.

Remus appeared in time for Charms that afternoon. During the lesson, James stole quick glances at him, noticing the scratches running across his face that had so intrigued Sirius. It all seemed so obvious now. Professor Flitwick could have been talking about Quidditch for all James knew; throughout the lesson, he went over the scene that was to take place later that evening. How did you go about telling your friend that you know he's a werewolf? Peter had been all for using the enchanted parchment and telling Remus in the lesson. While the idea was attractive in that it would be a lot easier to write, "Remus, we know you're a werewolf," than to look him in the eye and say it, James thought it would be cruel to spring it on him with other people about. So they would have to wait.

Supper was a tortuous affair, with the Gryffindor table buzzing with talk of Davy Gudgeon: Madam Pomfrey had had to send him to St Mungo's. Davy might well lose his eye...Davy had been blinded...Davy would never even walk again... Meanwhile, James, Sirius, and Peter found the food they ate turning to rubber in their mouths. Neither James nor Sirius was their usual boisterous self, and they cringed under Remus's puzzled looks. They were almost glad when supper was over, and, having seen Frank safely established in the common room, they dragged Remus up to the dormitory.

Remus sat on his bed and looked confused at the three solemn faces staring at him.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "What have you done?"

Peter looked at Sirius, who looked at James. James teetered on the brink of his confession.

'Better get it over with,' he thought.

"Remus, we know," he blurted out.

Remus frowned. "What do you know? Our exam results? They can't be that bad, can they?" His eyes were on the floor, occasionally shooting his friends a pleading glance.

"No, Remus, we know that you're a, well, that you're-" Sirius tried, staring doggedly at Remus. Peter's gaze kept sliding from Remus, and he seemed afraid of the forlorn figure sitting on the bed. A closed look appeared on Remus's face.

"We know you're a werewolf," James said in a rush.

The silence was deafening; it roared in James's ears like the wind did when he flew. Then, Remus stood up. Peter flinched and took a step towards Sirius.

"Oh," Remus said. His voice was steady and calm, and yet James had the impression of a vast, suppressed emotion hiding behind the eyes, which burned in Remus's pale face, across which the scratches showed a livid red. As if he were aware of James's thoughts, Remus trailed his hand along the lines of broken skin.

"How long have you known?" he said at last.

"Only a day or so," Sirius said.

"You noticed the moon?" Remus asked, still standing perfectly still and speaking in a composed voice.

"Yes," James nodded. "At the Quidditch match and then again in the Astronomy exam."

A dry smile appeared on Remus's face. "I thought you were getting suspicious."

James didn't like this. Remus was too collected; he was being too careful with his words. The tension in the room was becoming unbearable, and a glance at Sirius showed he felt the same.

"We just thought we'd better tell you that we know. We thought it might make it easier," Sirius said.

Again, there was that awful cool smile on Remus's face, and behind the mask, the burning eyes...

"Yes, much easier," Remus said, and James thought he heard the smallest waver in his friend's voice. "I'll go and tell McGonagall that you want me to change rooms, then, shall I?"

"Why would we want you to change rooms?" James asked.

"Well, because you don't want to share with a werewolf. It's all right." Remus's face was blank.

"Yes we do, you prat," Sirius said loudly.

"You're still our friend," Peter said in a tremulous voice,

"You don't get rid of us that easily," James said, smiling.

Remus's blank expression dissolved, and he looked away, while the other three became very interested in the lid of Sirius's trunk. After a few moments, Remus walked over to them.

"Thanks," he said.

Sirius punched Remus on the arm, James clapped him on the back, and Peter, after a moment's indecision, pulled a rather warm Chocolate Frog from his pocket and handed it to him. Remus smiled at them all, his usual smile rather than his horrible cold one, and in that moment a bond was forged between them all that would never be easily broken.